#live edge counter

[purpleafternoon]

Home Bar L-Shape in Calgary Inspiration for a small timeless l-shaped linoleum floor and brown floor seated home bar remodel with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, dark wood cabinets, wood countertops, multicolored backsplash and stone tile backsplash

[dogsinbowties]

Bathroom 3/4 Bath New York Small trendy 3/4 medium tone wood floor bathroom photo with a vessel sink, wood countertops, a one-piece toilet, white walls and brown countertops

[liquidwerx]

Calgary Seated Bar An undermount sink, shaker cabinets, dark wood cabinets, wood countertops, multicolored backsplash, and stone tile backsplash are some ideas for a small, timeless home bar remodel.

[gunillamixtapes]

Midcentury Kitchen

Large mid-century modern l-shaped kitchen with a light wood floor and a beige floor, an undermount sink, flat-panel cabinets, quartz countertops, a gray backsplash, an island, blue cabinets, a marble backsplash, and paneled appliances is shown in the photo.

[idolish7-cards]

Dining Room - Craftsman Dining Room

Idea for an enclosed dining room with a mid-sized craftsman style, a travertine floor, and a beige floor, green walls, and no fireplace

[tethrasing]

Powder Room Bathroom Denver Example of a medium-sized mountain style powder room with beige walls, stone tile, flat-panel cabinets, dark wood cabinets, a vessel sink, wood countertops, and dark countertops.

[lesbiansanemi]

Im so sorry to keep bitching about this but like !!! It’s even in little things !!! He’s so obsessed with everything being Pristine and Perfect and to His Tastes in the apartment that it’s even little tiny things that might be a Bit ugly but made things easier for me that need to go !!!!! He moved my bearded dragon’s terrarium (fine I guess…) but then got rid of the power strip that had a switch on it to easily turn off all his various lighting rigs and heat regulation at night and then on in the morning to individually plug them all in and then hide the outlet behind a giant cabinet because it was “ugly” to see the cords. And it’s like well yes! It was kinda ugly but now twice a day I have to maneuver around all this fucking shit to individually plug and unplug his lights and it’s like !!!!! Five billion little things like that on top of everything else. The insane lack of consideration that maybe I LIKED how my apartment looked and functioned. Maybe the annoying/ugly things you didn’t like helped me fucking function more like a normal person and made things easier for me !!!!! Maybe we should consider that other ppl exist in this space and have to deal with the consequences of your whims !!!!!

[kodokugumon]

the fact that so many child abuse laws are like "its not child abuse unless it leaves a lasting mark" is so fucking crazy to me. You can hit a kid as long as your fists weren't closed and you hit them light enough

[roscolate]

DAMNIT JELLY IT’S TOO EARLY FOR ME TO BE ON THE VERGE OF BAWLING MY EYES OUT 😭😭😭

TW // Suicidal Thoughts

BGM- End Titles - The Last Guardian

ACT 1

ACT 2

ACT 3 - 1 <<< 23 / 24 / ⚡️

Spot the One Piece reference! ☺️

So, yeah, this segment is very dear to me on a personal level, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed drawing it. These updates are taking so long due to the backgrounds and extra characters, but this time, the backgrounds are simplified along with the colour palette, so hopefully the next update isn’t too far off! I know last year I took a month long break, but I have been managing breaks between updates, so this time it won’t be necessary. My goal is to have this comic done by April. Props if I have it done before then!

[chososcutie]

warnings: fem!reader, edging, overstim, handjob, lotsa cumming

needy!satoru who is a total sex addict. he's just so whipped for you and your pussy, he can't help the fact he has to fill you up with cum every chance he gets.

needy!satoru who will fuck you anytime, anywhere, from the bedroom, the kitchen counter, his workplace, the public restroom, anywhere.

needy!satoru who never gives your poor, overstimulated cunt a rest, either stuffing you full with his long, slender fingers, lapping furiously between your legs at his favorite meal, or his favorite, burying his heavy, swollen cock deep into your warm, gooey walls.

needy!satoru who you, as a result, put on a pussyban.

"babyy, c'mon.." needy!satoru whimpers, hands desperately clutching at your shirt as his pretty, snowy white lashes flutter at you, almost brimming with tears. he just doesn't know how he's gonna live without your pretty pussy!

you push him off, complaining about how sore you are, and that he's gonna be fine.

needy!satoru who after only a few hours, is already whining and pouting, trying his hardest to make you give in to him by constantly draping himself over you, or pressing against your body snugly.

needy!satoru who after a day and a half, is almost feral, his thick, curved shaft pulsing steadily against the confines of his sweatpants, the sight so lewd and obscene, you almost call off the ban.

almost.

needy!satoru who by day three, is practically humping the walls, rutting against your ass every time you turn around or bend over, and pouting when you push him away.

needy!satoru whose eyes roll back in his head, hips instinctively lifting for more when you reach across him for the tv remote, cock achingly hard and throbbing.

needy!satoru who thrusts himself into your hand desperately, pleading sweetly for you to stroke his cock just once, he needs it!

“fine, satoru.” you concede grudgingly, and more than a little wet at the sight of your pathetic boyfriend.

needy!satoru immediately sighs in relief, head lolling back as you finally take his neglected length into your hand, already oozing with glossy pre-cum.

"mmh jus' like that.." his hips rock against your hand steadily, as he quickly builds speed, so much pearly pre leaking out of the reddish divot on his head, it almost looks like he came already.

needy!satoru whose cock is already twitching and jerking in your grip, like it does when he's close, making you hum softly, "aww, is m'poor baby all worked up already? such a pathetic little thing you are.."

needy!satoru who loves it when you degrade him, and is only getting closer, his eyes screwing shut tight as he whimpers, girthy inches seeming to swell bigger, weeping tip gushing more dewy pre.

and when you lightly rub your thumb over needy!satoru's slit, hand tightening ever so slightly, he only lasts one more pump before he's spurting ribbon after ribbon of creamy white cum, splattering across his tummy as his hips stutter sloppily, a moaning, whimpering mess beneath you.

needy!satoru whose whines of pleasure only get higher as your hand never stops in its ministrations, continuing to stroke him off with renewed vigor, thumb sweeping the milky dredges of his seed across his sensitive tip back and forth, and back and forth.

needy!satoru whose hand weakly grabs your wrist, voice raspy as he groans, "b-baby, baby easy, i c-came already.."

needy!satoru whose embarrassed to say, is gonna cum again, and nearing the brink of overstimulation as big tears prick at his eyes.

"mmh.. m'gonna.. g-gonna..!" is all needy!satoru can say before he's making a mess of himself again, bucking wildly while his vision turns spotty.

your mouth curves into a cheeky grin, tittering as you take in the wrecked mess your needy!satoru made, hand still moving in slow, languid drags as you lean in closer, whispering in a sultry tone, "since y'er so eager, you're gonna let me milk you dry, until you can't even think about cumming without crying with overstimulation.."

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Vegas Baby | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: After winning his fourth world championship, Max Verstappen stuns the world with a live radio proposal.

A/N: This was inspired by this post by @altxanna idea so good it made me get over my writer's block and write this 4.2k monstrosity.

MAX VERSTAPPEN MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Max Verstappen crossed the finish line in fifth place, but that didn’t matter. The entire world was fixated on the fact that he had just won his fourth World Championship.

“AND MAX VERSTAPPEN DOES IT AGAIN! FOUR WORLD TITLES!” David Croft shouted, his voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. The Las Vegas skyline lit up like a fireworks display on overdrive, the crowd roaring in approval.

“Forget where he finished—he’s a four-time world champion!” Martin Brundle yelled, equally excited. “This is history!”

Max, however, barely seemed to notice he’d crossed the line in fifth. He was just… Max. Calm. Collected. His voice came through the radio, steady as always, but with a hint of amusement.

“Thanks, guys. It’s been an incredible season. I’m so proud of the team. Huge thanks to GP, Christian, everyone.”

“You’ve done it, Max! Four-time champion, man!” GP screamed, clearly unable to keep the excitement in. “This is massive, mate! You’ve earned this!”

“Yeah, I know,” Max said, his voice deadpan. “But listen, there’s one more thing.”

The radio went quiet for a second.

“Uh… What’s that, Max?” GP asked, his tone suddenly cautious.

Max didn’t respond right away. Then, he casually dropped the bomb.

“Y/n, a bet’s a bet. We’re getting married tonight.”

���WHAT?!” GP exploded. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?”

Max’s tone didn’t change. “We’re getting married. Vegas chapel. Tonight.”

The entire Red Bull garage froze. Even the other engineers looked around in total confusion.

Max continued, his voice as if he were discussing the weather. “It’s been planned. I won the fourth title, she agreed to the bet, so… wedding time.”

GP sputtered. “Max, you—WHAT? No, no, no. You can’t just say that on the radio! You can’t just—”

“I’m doing it,” Max said, already tired of the conversation. “It’s happening. Vegas. Tonight.”

The radio was dead silent for a long moment, then GP finally spoke, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and dread. “Max, I—What in the world did I just hear? Are you seriously making your wedding announcement over the team radio?”

“Of course, I’m serious,” Max replied. “She said if I won my fourth title in Vegas, I could pick the wedding date. So, I picked tonight.”

“Max, you can’t—you—what the hell is wrong with you?!” GP spluttered.

Back in the commentary booth, David Croft could barely hold it together. “Did Max Verstappen just announce his wedding on live radio after winning his fourth world championship? Is that what I just heard?!”

“I think that’s exactly what you heard, Crofty,” Martin Brundle said, voice dripping with astonishment. “This is pure, unfiltered Verstappen.”

David Crofty just stared at the screen, blinking in disbelief. “Honestly, I can’t even process this. We’ve seen some wild moments in F1, but this... this might just take the cake.”

“Yeah,” Brundle said with a chuckle. “You can’t script this stuff. Not even in Vegas.”

Meanwhile, in Red Bull’s hospitality area, Y/n was standing stock-still, her eyes wide as she stared at the screen. The radio call still blaring in her ears.

“Did—did he just announce our wedding? Like… right now?!” she hissed, her hand gripping the counter in disbelief.

A Red Bull mechanic standing nearby looked just as stunned. “Uh, I think he did, yeah.”

“He’s lost it,” one engineer muttered under his breath, his face pale.

“I don’t even know what’s happening anymore,” another whispered.

The others weren’t any better off, most of them looking like they might faint. A PR rep came over, trying to maintain professionalism but clearly in shock. “Y/n, um… Max just… did he just announce your wedding?”

“Don’t look at me,” Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t even… He’s the worst.”

“Vegas, baby!” another joked, only to get smacked in the arm by Y/n as she stormed past.

Back on the track, Max, utterly relaxed, parked his car in parc fermé and stepped out, throwing his helmet in the air before catching it like it was no big deal.

“So, yeah,” Max said, grinning at the cameras. “Got my fourth title, and now I get to marry my girl. Vegas chapel, let’s go!”

The reporters and photographers surrounding him stared at him in utter confusion.

“Wait, what? You’re—what?!” one reporter stammered.

Max smirked. “Yep, Vegas. I won, she lost, and now we’re getting married.”

He tossed a thumbs-up to the camera as if it were a completely normal thing to say.

“Max,” one reporter finally managed, “you’re serious about this, right? You’re really getting married in Vegas?”

Max’s grin widened. “I’m serious. A bet’s a bet. No turning back.”

Back in the Red Bull garage, chaos had officially set in. Christian Horner, who had been pacing for the last five minutes, finally stopped and glared at a nearby mechanic. “What am I supposed to do with this now?!”

“I don’t know, Christian,” the mechanic said, holding up his hands in defeat. “Maybe we start picking out flowers?”

“Someone get me a drink,” Christian muttered, walking off, leaving a sea of confusion behind him.

Y/n stormed through the paddock like a woman possessed, her face a mix of disbelief, panic, and barely contained rage.

She spotted Max leaning casually against a barrier in parc fermé, looking like he had no care in the world—despite having just announced their impending Vegas wedding to the entire world. He was surrounded by Lewis, Fernando, George, and Carlos, who were all still there congratulating him and clearly trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“MAX!” Y/n screeched as she closed the distance.

Max turned, his smug grin stretching even wider. “Oh, there she is! The future Mrs. Verstappen. Took you long enough.”

Y/n planted herself directly in front of him, glaring. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Max blinked, his expression far too innocent. “What? I kept my promise.”

“Your promise?” Y/n echoed, incredulous. “You hijacked the championship celebration to announce a fake wedding! On LIVE TELEVISION!”

“It’s not fake,” Max said matter-of-factly. “A bet is a bet.”

Carlos, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Wait, wait, wait. You bet your wedding on the championship?”

“Of course,” Max said with a shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m a man of my word.”

George choked on air. “You’re a menace.”

“Exactly,” Y/n said, throwing her hands in the air. “Max, this is insane! You can’t just—”

“Relax, schatje,” Max interrupted, his tone annoyingly casual. “It’s Vegas. This is what people do here.”

“Not normal people!” Y/n snapped.

Lewis, still dabbing at his face with a towel, gave a bewildered laugh. “I’m sorry, are we actually talking about a real wedding right now?”

“Yes,” Max said confidently. “Tonight.”

“No,” Y/n shot back.

“Yes.”

“MAX!”

“Yes, Y/n,” Max said, leaning forward slightly. “We are getting married tonight, and that’s final.”

“Final?!” she spluttered. “How is this final? There’s no plan, no venue, no—”

“Vegas has plenty of chapels,” Max interrupted smoothly.

“I don’t have a dress!”

“You’ll look great in anything,” Max countered.

Y/n groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t even have someone to walk me down the aisle!”

Max tilted his head, clearly unbothered. “Oh, that’s easy.” He turned to his left, where Lewis stood mid-sip from his water bottle. “Lewis! Can you walk Y/n down the aisle tonight?”

Lewis froze, the bottle halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“Can you walk her down the aisle?” Max repeated, as if this were a completely reasonable request.

“I—” Lewis blinked, looking between Max and Y/n. “Uh… sure?”

“What?! No!” Y/n shouted.

“Why me?” Lewis asked, baffled.

Max shrugged. “You’re a world champion. She deserves someone of high status.”

Before Y/n could combust, Fernando Alonso stepped forward, a sly grin on his face. “Hold on,” he said, raising a hand. “If anyone is walking her down the aisle, it should be me. I’m the most appropriate for the role.”

Lewis turned to him, visibly confused. “How do you figure that?”

Fernando gave a dramatic shrug. “Experience. I’m wiser, more distinguished. A father figure, if you will.”

Y/n groaned, “Oh my God, Fernando—”

Lewis snorted. “Father figure? Please. More like grandfather figure.”

The group exploded into laughter. George doubled over, wheezing, while Carlos clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his own cackles.

“You wound me, Hamilton,” Fernando said, his tone mock-offended.

“Yeah, but I’m not wrong,” Lewis quipped, smirking.

“This is not happening,” Y/n muttered, covering her face with her hands.

Max leaned closer to her, his grin pure mischief. “See? Problem solved. You have two excellent candidates to walk you down the aisle.”

“This is NOT solved!” Y/n screeched.

George finally spoke up, still chuckling. “You know, for the record, this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen”

“Agreed,” Carlos said, shaking his head with a grin. “But I can’t look away.”

Max clapped his hands together. “Alright, then. We’re all set! Lewis or Fernando—it’s Y/n’s choice.”

“I CHOOSE NEITHER!” she yelled, clearly on the verge of a breakdown.

Max leaned back, entirely unfazed. “Suit yourself. But one way or another, schatje, we’re getting married tonight.”

Y/n turned to the other drivers, her eyes pleading. “Can someone PLEASE talk some sense into him?”

Lewis shrugged. “I don’t know, Y/n. He seems pretty set on it. You might just have to roll with it.”

Fernando smirked. “And let me know when you decide. I’ll be practicing my ‘giving away the bride’ speech.”

George buried his face in his hands again, mumbling, “This is a fever dream.”

Y/n, meanwhile, was contemplating her life choices as Max grinned at her, utterly pleased with himself. This was going to be a nightmare—and she was the star attraction.

Suddenly, Lando came sprinting out of nowhere, practically skidding to a stop in front of Max. His curls were a chaotic mess, and his face was split into an ear-to-ear grin that made him look like an overexcited puppy.

“MAX!” Lando yelled, throwing his arms up. “FOUR-TIME WORLD CHAMPION! YOU LEGEND! Also mate, what the hell?! Are you really getting married?!” 

Max turned, his ever-present grin widening. “Obviously.”

“I thought it was just a rumor!” Lando said, flinging his helmet onto a nearby table. “I mean, come on, you say insane stuff on the radio all the time! I figured this was one of those things.”

“Nope.” Max popped the “p” for emphasis. “It’s happening. Tonight.”

Y/n, who had been pacing nearby in a futile attempt to process her life choices, groaned audibly. “I hate all of you. All of you.”

Lando glanced at her, then back at Max. “Wait, so this is real? Like… actually real?”

“As real as it gets,” Max replied, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “And since you’re here…”

Lando squinted. “Since I’m here, what?”

Max’s grin turned sly, his hand still on Lando’s shoulder. “How do you feel about being my best man tonight?”

Lando froze, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” Max said, still looking far too pleased with himself.

“Me?!” Lando gestured wildly at himself, his voice rising an octave. “Why me?!”

“Why not you?” Max countered smoothly.

“I don’t know!” Lando threw up his hands. “You could ask your trainer, your engineer—anyone! We’ve been rivals this entire year!”

Max tilted his head, his expression softening slightly. “Exactly. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs this year, yeah? Fighting for the championship and everything. But at the end of the day…” He paused, his grin shifting to something more genuine. “You’re a good friend, Lando. One of the best. And I’d like us to bury the hatchet. Tonight.”

The sudden sincerity hit Lando like a truck. His eyes widened, his lip quivering just a little as he stared at Max. “Max…”

The group went quiet—well, as quiet as it could be with the chaos of the paddock swirling around them. Even Y/n stopped pacing to stare, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You really mean that?” Lando asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“Of course,” Max said, giving Lando a firm pat on the back. “You’ve been there through all of it, mate. Who else would I want standing next to me tonight?”

Lando’s hand flew to his face, his bottom lip wobbling. “Oh my God. I think I’m gonna cry.”

“Don’t cry,” George mumbled, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. “This is ridiculous enough already.”

“Shut up, George!” Lando snapped, though it lacked any real venom. He sniffled, blinking rapidly. “Max, you big idiot. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Max smirked. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

Y/n, watching this entire exchange with her arms crossed, muttered under her breath, “I cannot believe this is my life right now.”

Carlos, standing nearby, leaned over to George and whispered, “Do you think Lando will actually cry at the altar?”

“Oh, 100%,” George replied without hesitation.

“I’M NOT CRYING!” Lando shouted, wiping furiously at his eyes.

“Sure, mate,” Carlos said, grinning.

“Shut up!” Lando whirled back to Max, pointing a slightly wobbly finger at him. “Fine! I’ll do it. I’ll be your best man. But only because that was the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Good.” Max nodded approvingly. “We’re gonna have a great time. Bring tissues, though. You’ll need them.”

Lando groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re emotional,” Max teased, clapping him on the back again.

“Can I leave now?” Y/n interjected, looking thoroughly exasperated.

“Nope,” Max said cheerfully. “We’ve still got wedding planning to do. And Lando needs to rehearse his speech.”

“Speech?!” Lando exclaimed, his face paling. “No one said anything about a speech!”

“Oh, come on,” Carlos said, grinning. “Just wing it.”

“This is a nightmare,” Y/n muttered.

“See, schatje?” Max said, turning to her with a mischievous smile. “Everything’s settled”

“Kill me now,” she groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

“Not before the wedding,” Max quipped. “I need my bride alive, schatje.”

Carlos, grinning, nudged George. “Do you think she’ll kill him before they even make it to the altar?”

“I actually might” Y/n snapped, making everyone laugh—except her.

Max clapped his hands together, cutting through the lingering laughter. “Alright, boys, fun’s over. See you after the podium, yeah?”

Carlos snorted, throwing an arm around George. “Come on, hombre. Let’s get out of here before they decide to do something crazier.”

Max turned to Carlos, his grin turning devious. “Speaking of you, Carlos, I need another groomsman. What do you say?”

Carlos blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Me? Really?”

“Obviously,” Max said, rolling his eyes. “You’re good at standing around looking pretty. Perfect for the job.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos said, puffing out his chest dramatically.

Y/n, standing a few feet away, raised her hand. “Dibs on George for my side, then.”

George’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what?”

“I called dibs,” Y/n said firmly, crossing her arms.

“That’s not how this works!” Max exclaimed, glaring at her.

“It is now,” she shot back, grinning.

Max groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You are impossible.”

“You’re marrying me,” she said sweetly. “This is your problem now.”

Before Max could argue further, he grabbed her hand, tugging her away from the group. “We need to pick more people. Properly.”

As they walked through the paddock, Max started listing names under his breath. “Alright, I want Charles on my side.”

“No way,” Y/n said immediately.

Max frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I’m picking him,” Y/n declared, speeding up her pace as soon as she spotted Charles standing by his car.

Max groaned. “You can’t just steal all the good ones!”

“Watch me.”

By the time they reached Charles, Y/n was already stepping in front of Max, her grin wicked. “Charles! You’re going to be my maid of honor.”

Charles looked up, his face blank with confusion. “Wait, what?”

Max shoved Y/n aside, scowling. “Ignore her, Charles. You’re going to be one of my groomsmen.”

“No, he’s not!” Y/n snapped, stepping back in front of Max.

“Yes, he is!” Max shot back, sidestepping her.

Charles blinked between them, his brows furrowing. “What is happening right now?”

“You’re gonna help me with my wedding,” Y/n said, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “It’s happening tonight.”

Charles just stared at her, still not sure if he was in a dream or being pranked. “Uh… are you serious?”

“Charles, listen to me,” Y/n said, grabbing his hands dramatically. “I need you on my side. You’re the only one who understands how insane Max is.”

Max pulled her back by the shoulder. “He does not understand that! He’s my friend, not yours.”

Charles raised a hand. “Guys, what—”

“Do you really want to stand next to Max?” Y/n asked, cutting him off.

Max glared at her. “Do you really want to be stuck with her?”

“I feel like I don’t want to be stuck with either of you,” Charles said cautiously, his confusion growing.

“Charles,” Y/n pleaded, gripping his arm. “Please. You’ll get to wear something cool”

Charles blinked, still completely befuddled. “I… I don’t know what’s happening. Am I even invited to this wedding? Because you’re asking me to do a lot without any context.”

“Don’t listen to her!” Max interjected, gesturing wildly. “You’ll have more fun on my side. I’ll let you hold the rings.”

“No we’re letting Yuki hold the rings!” Y/n shouted.

Charles blinked again, looking between them like they’d both lost their minds. “Are you two seriously fighting over me right now?”

“Yes!” they yelled in unison.

Charles sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Say yes to me, Charles,” Y/n said, batting her eyelashes.

“No, say yes to me,” Max countered, practically growling.

Charles threw his hands up. “Fine! I’ll be on Y/n’s side. But only because she asked first.”

Y/n cheered, sticking her tongue out at Max. “Suck it!”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Max muttered as Charles smirked at him.

The wedding was somehow happening. In the span of a few hours—thanks to an intense series of last-minute phone calls, frantic text messages, and a team of Red Bull employees being worked to the bone—the ceremony was set to begin. And despite the fact that no one really knew how they’d gotten here, the whole thing had turned into the weirdest Formula 1 event in history.

Y/n stood in the back, adjusting her dress, eyeing the people around her in disbelief. Max had somehow managed to throw together an entire wedding in record time, which was somehow both impressive and terrifying. She was walking down the aisle with Lewis and Fernando—two of the most iconic figures in F1. She couldn’t decide between them, so she’d invited both to walk her down the aisle. Because, why not?

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Lewis asked, smoothing out his jacket. His suit was impeccable, of course. He was an icon of style, so a last-minute wedding wasn’t going to stop him from looking good.

“I’m just trying to survive this,” Y/n muttered

“We’re in Vegas. Anything goes,” Fernando quipped, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. “At least the wedding's got personality."

“You both know I’ll never live this down, right?” Y/n said, shaking her head. "This whole thing is so Max, I feel like I should apologize to everyone for being part of it."

“You’ll be fine,” Fernando added with a smile, adjusting his cufflinks. “It’s Max. You know he doesn’t do anything half-heartedly. He’s probably already planned the honeymoon.”

Y/n laughed nervously. “I’m pretty sure he has. You’ve both seen what happens when Max gets an idea in his head. And somehow... this is actually happening.”

“You’ve got this,” Lewis said. “We’re here for you.”

Before Y/n could respond, the doors swung open, signaling that it was time. The aisle was a bit too short for a proper procession, and the whole thing had a sense of hurried chaos as they started walking down toward the altar.

At the front, Max stood there waiting, looking like he was about to burst with excitement. His best man, Lando, had been fighting tears all night and was now sniffling into a tissue. "I swear this is the happiest day of my life," Lando muttered to Carlos, wiping his eyes.

Carlos, looking slightly concerned, just shook his head. “It’s their wedding Lando, not even your own. stop bawling.”

“Yeah, but it’s their wedding,” Lando said, eyes still damp. “There’s too much love in the air.”

Max had his hands tucked in his pockets, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. When he spotted Y/n, he gave her an exaggerated wink, as if to say, “We made it.”

“You good?” Fernando asked, glancing at Y/n as they reached the front.

“I’m questioning every life choice I’ve made,” Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling the full weight of the absurdity of the situation.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Max said, grinning.

At the back of the room, Oscar and Franco stood with baskets of flowers, both looking thoroughly confused in their roles as flower boys. Oscar had been dragged into this because of his unwillingness to protest. Franco, on the other hand, was too amused to care about the situation and just went along with it.

“Oscar, why are we doing this again?” Franco whispered, furrowing his brows as he sprinkled petals on the floor.

“Because Yuki said we had to. And I’m not arguing with him,” Oscar muttered, holding his basket as if it were a grenade about to go off.

“Who cares? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience! Attending Max Vertsappen’s wedding?,” Franco said with stars in his eyes, “I’ll tell my grandkids about this.”

Yuki, holding the rings, couldn’t contain his excitement as he gave them instructions. “Guys, you’re doing great. Just, uh, try not to look confused. I need this to look professional. Oscar throw the petals properly! more passion! more energy! more footwork!”

“I’m already questioning my entire existence,” Oscar said, looking at Franco for solidarity. Franco just smiled and threw a handful of petals into the air.

The Elvis officiating the wedding was already in full swing, not entirely sure of the gravity of the moment but having a blast nonetheless.

"Y’all ready to get hitched?" Elvis said, his voice more vibrant than Y/n could’ve imagined.

Max, barely containing his excitement, looked over at Y/n. “Ready for this, love?” he asked, his voice low, though it carried a hint of playfulness.

Y/n smiled, glancing at him for a moment. “More than ever.”

Then, in front of everyone, they exchanged their vows.

Max spoke first, his voice unwavering, but there was an undeniable tenderness in his words. “Y/n, you’ve turned my world upside down. You’ve made every race, every moment, better just by being there. I promise to keep being the person you’ve decided to stand at an altar with, the person you love—even when I’m an absolute nightmare. I’ll always fight for us, for this. I love you.”

Y/n could feel her heart in her throat as she spoke. “Max, you’ve always been… Max. But you’ve shown me that you are a person with the biggest heart. You’ve made me laugh, cry, and love harder than I thought I could. You’re my best friend, and I can’t wait for the next chapter of this crazy life with you. I love you.”

There were no grand gestures or over-the-top theatrics; instead, it was just them—raw, honest, and completely present in this moment.

Max smiled at her, the kind of smile that made everything feel right, before turning to the officiant.

“Elvis, hit me with that ‘you may kiss the bride’ line,” Max said, giving a wink.

And so, amidst the madness, they kissed, sealing their vows with a moment that felt right in all its simplicity. The crowd cheered, some clapping and others, like Lando, wiping away happy tears. It wasn’t the wedding anyone had expected, but it was exactly what Max and Y/n had needed.

As they pulled away, Y/n’s gaze met Max’s, and for a brief moment, it was just the two of them, everything else fading away.

As the ceremony ended and the newlyweds turned to leave, the crowd of friends and teammates erupted into applause, some of them still trying to process what had just happened.

Lando was grinning, wiping his eyes. “This is so perfect. I’m still not sure how we managed to get here in two hours, but it’s amazing.”

Charles was smiling too, giving Y/n a thumbs up. “Congrats, both of you. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Max is married now.”

Lewis patted Max on the back. “She’s got you now. Good luck with that.”

Y/n smiled at him, a little breathless. “So, are you planning to annoy me for the rest of our lives?”

Max grinned back, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Absolutely. You’ve signed up for it, so no turning back now.”

Everyone laughed, but there was a deep sincerity in the air. This was their moment—imperfect and hurried, but beautiful in its own way.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

It's not every day that a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in a bid to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly is today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the woods.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chips were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank his coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously, cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot, sorry."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched-out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his bat at its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Barry whispered to Hal.

[fatherbrat]

TELL ME AGAIN, R. SUNA

sum. sequel to one last time. you visit suna after listening to the voicenote he sent you, just to talk, and end up doing a little more than that.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. cheating/infidelity, suna really got on my nerves while i was writing this and he'll probably get on yours too, arguing, choking (m. receiving), edging, cunnilingus, a little manhandling kinda, missionary, multiple instances of "i miss/ed you"

wc. 2k

Suna tries his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face when you text him to ask if he’s home. 

He knew that voice message would get you. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him it would be a monumental embarrassment if you didn’t, but it was drowned out by all the other voices in his head telling him to send, send, send, send.

His stomach turns with anticipation. He doesn’t even answer your question, just orders an Uber and sends you the car make and model and how long it will take to get to your apartment. 6 minutes. And then 12 minutes from yours to his. 

He fishes out the fancy santal candle he knows you like from beneath the bathroom sink and lights it in his bedroom. Then he brushes his teeth and puts some music on and waits.

He jumps when the doorbell rings.

There’s a moment of silence when he opens the door, the two of you just looking at each other. It hits Suna that this is the first time he’s seen you in person in months. He used to see you everyday. There's a part of his chest that seems to ache at the realization. He ignores it.

“Hi,” you breathe.

He blinks once. Twice. “Hey.” He opens the door a little wider and shifts to the side so you can come in.

You take one step closer and then stop, eyeing him with unjust suspicion. “I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”

Suna takes one look at your outfit—shorts that are definitely too short to be comfortable in this chilly fall weather and a sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his—and knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out, just grins and shrugs and ushers you inside anyway. 

You lean against the kitchen counter to survey the living room, pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as the last time you were here. Suna’s still standing by the door when you look at him again, arms crossed.

“So why’d you come over?” he asks.

It’s your turn to shrug. “You said you missed me.”

“Did I?”

You give him a sideways look. “You did.” You drag out the two words, nodding slowly and widening your eyes as if you’re speaking to a child.

Suna tilts his head to the side, smiling a little. “What else did I say?”

Oh lord. You should’ve known he’d be annoying about it. You shift your gaze up to the ceiling, pretending to struggle to remember even though you listened to his message several times, including once on the car ride over. 

“You said you weren’t happy for me…which is pretty fucked up.”

Suna just rolls his eyes. “What else?”

Eyes on the ceiling again. “You said you liked my Halloween costume. And that if I had sex with you it wouldn’t count as cheating because I haven’t been with him that long.” You put air quotes around his claim, sliding your eyes back down to meet his.

He’s standing closer to you now than he was a minute ago, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “Now that part’s fucked up. Where is the boyfriend, by the way?”

You make a face and look at the time on the microwave. “Probably home. Probably asleep.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?” He closes what’s left of the gap between you and tugs on the drawstring of your (his) sweatshirt to even out both ends.

“Fine…” you whisper, breath hitching when his hand brushes your ear on the way to your hoodie.

He hums after fixing the string and walks towards his bedroom, tapping your bare thigh as he passes you as a silent cue to follow.

You realize that he doesn’t believe your intentions for coming over are pure, which is true, but you don’t like that he didn’t even pretend to believe you. 

You follow his lead anyway, resting your head against the doorframe and watching him fish his phone out of his pocket and dump it on his desk. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I told you I just came over here to talk,” you snap.

Suna’s response is automatic. “No, you said you didn’t come over here to fuck.”

“Rin.”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees and his hands beneath his chin. “Alright. Talk.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have come.” You twist your foot to turn around and immediately hear the bed creak with relief. Suna wraps his hand around your wrist before you can fully turn your back.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “Stay. Please?”

He sounds like he’s begging. He looks like he’s begging, with his slumped shoulders and pleading eyes and desperation written all over his pretty face. 

It’s not enough. 

“My boyfriend doesn’t taunt me like this, you know,” you tell him, indignant.

Suna’s grip on your arms loosens as his face falls a bit.

You continue. “He’s actually nice to me. And he’s romantic. Treats me like royalty.”

You watch Suna’s jaw tick. His hand returns to his side. “He’s boring.”

“He’s steady.”

Suna’s tone grows terse. “Dull. Stale. Bland. Vanilla.”

“Stable and secure and safe.”

Suna snorts. “Safe,” he repeats, sarcastic. “I seriously don’t get how you can date him.” 

“Because he’s my boyfriend who I love and not just some guy I used to fuck when I was lonely.”

It’s a low blow. You and Suna were friends long before the benefits came along. Good friends. Close friends.

If he’s offended he doesn’t show it, just latches on to the first part of your sentence. “You don’t love him.”

He’s right. “You’re wrong.”

“Really? Why are you here then?” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because I said I missed you.”

You’re not sure when you started taking steps forward, or when Suna started moving backwards, but his calves hit the edge of the bed and suddenly he’s sitting again, looking up at you with that infuriating self-righteousness that makes your eye twitch.

And then your hand is squeezing his throat and your lips are on his and you’re straddling him and moaning into his mouth.

You feel him start to smile against you before he pulls away. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Don’t fucking say anything,” you tell him, before tugging his face towards you neck. 

You can tell Suna’s still smiling, but he obeys, sucking the tender spot right above your collarbone without another word. His hands find the bottom of your sweatshirt and he pulls it up. 

His lips leave your skin and your hand leaves his neck so you can take your arms out of the sleeves and he can yank it over your head and drop it on the floor. Then he rests his hands on your hips and just looks at you. 

Goosebumps dance across your shoulders and arms. Suna wants to comment on how you're not wearing a bra but he doesn’t, just continues to stare. 

“What?” you ask.

He takes in the sight of you on top of him, the rise and fall of your chest—quicker than normal, a side effect of him riling you up. He revels in the weight of you on his legs and tries to recall the last time you had him beneath you like this. Your birthday? His birthday? Or maybe it was that time he tried to cheer you up after you got laid off. Either way, it’s been a long time and he hates to think about how you’ve probably been doing this with your boyfriend instead of him.

He can’t help himself. “You straddle the boyfriend like this?”

You huff and press your palm to his chest, shoving him onto his back. Your face hovers over his. “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”

Suna studies your face and puts his hands around your waist and beams. It’s the only signal you get before he flips you, putting your head on a pillow and taking his own shirt off before he drops it on the ground somewhere near your hoodie.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, glancing at the hard outline growing in his sweats as you trail your fingertips up his thigh. He leans into you and rests his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you,” he says softly. 

Your heart beats at a concerning speed. “I know.”

He gets up from the bed and snaps the waistband of your shorts before telling you to take them off and removing the rest of his own clothes. When he crouches over you again, you place the sole of your foot flat against him and tut. 

“You also said you’d do that thing I like with your tongue.”

Again, Suna chooses not to comment. He wonders how many times you listened to the message, because it’s sounding like more than once, more than a couple. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, forcing a giggle out of your throat before he plants his head between your legs. 

He circles your clit, avoiding making contact with it directly and making teasing strokes with his fingers until you’re panting and quivering and making shaky demands for him to let you come on his tongue. When he does, you scream his name. 

“Music to my fucking ears,” he says under his breath, licking your slick off his lips. “You scream this loud for him too?”

You can't believe you forgot how aggravating he is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

He looks so smug. You start to think that the desperation from before was too short-lived, until he’s inside you and you’re filled with him and that familiar need that makes you wrap your legs around him and claw at his back.

All you can think about is how you miss him and you missed this, and you’re telling him to fuck you harder, and then his mouth is right below your ear and his hair is tickling your cheek and a stream of yes’s and Rin’s are tumbling out of your mouth like dominoes and youre trying to pull him impossibly closer and youre so surrounded by him that its dizzying and youre whispering i miss you in his ear and hoping it doesnt sound like i love you and hes saying i miss you too and youre wondering if he really means i love you too and then youre biting into his shoulder and—  

You lose count of how many times you come. Both of you do. The two of you are coated in sweat, laying on damp sheets in a room that now smells like sex and sandalwood. Neither of you speak, busy catching your breath and being lost in thought. You don’t want to say anything, afraid you’ll break the spell.

You didn’t have to worry about that, though, because you hear your phone ping loudly and realize it’s on the floor, still tucked away in the front pocket of your sweatshirt. Suna turns his head towards you.

“You should break up with him.”

You raise an eyebrow at the seriousness in his voice and sigh. “I know.”

“Today.”

A pause. “Okay.”

There’s another moment where none of you speak. And then–

“You should date me instead.”

You turn to face him and the earnestness in his expression catches you so off guard you have to look away again. It’s not that you never expected him to bring it up, you just hadn't expected him to sound so sincere when he did.

You had toyed with the idea before, a handful of times even, but everything between you two was so easy—why would you mess it up with a what are we? conversation? Although, you suppose you messed it up anyway by getting a boyfriend and ditching Suna without warning.

It takes you a long time to respond, long enough that Suna starts to game plan an exit strategy, but then you meet his gaze again.

“Okay.”

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[TF141 with A Reader That Can Fall Asleep Anywhere and Anytime]

Price’s heart skips a beat when he steps into the bedroom and sees your legs on the bed while the rest of your body just dangles from the edge of the bed.

He manhandles you back onto the bed and kisses you goodnight, but his poor heart gets surprised again when he goes to the bathroom in the morning and is welcomed by the sight of you dangling your legs on the edge of the empty bathtub this time and body lies in the tub.

He picks you up and you stir, murmuring that you were brushing your teeth when he asks you why you’re sleeping in the tub, and then drift back to dream in his arms with the toothbrush in your hand.

Soap is too used to your weird sleeping habit, so when he comes home and sees you lying with your head on the couch but hanging your legs over the back of the couch, he just scoffs a laugh and carries you to bed.

“Hey Johnny” you mumble when you feel him put you on the bed.

“go back to sleep” He kisses you and goes to shower, and when he finishes and goes back to your side, he shakes his head in disbelief when he finds you lying horizontally even though he just adjusted your position into a normal human one 5 minutes ago.

Gaz wakes up in the morning and walks to the living room just to witness you standing but bend over the kitchen counter, he almost thinks you’re dead and the haziness in his mind just vanishes in a second.

“babe wake up!” he knows you’re alive but still checks if you are breathing as he wakes you up.

“goo morni kyl I -&&:@/“ and he only watches you straight up for a greeting and then slump onto the counter to sleep again, while the tea you make is beside you.

Ghost

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks when you two sit together in front of the desk, he's using his laptop while you’re reading.

“What you want for dinner love?” He says again when he doesn’ t get a response from you.

“Love?”

He turns to face you after another silence, and finally, he discovers why you're so quiet, because you fall asleep while resting your head on your hand.

He grins while taking out his phone and records you, and (luckily) he captures your head slips out of your palm and slams your face on your book as you are totally unfazed and keep snoring.

[truthless-behind-the-curtain]

San Francisco Large Wine cellar - large traditional slate floor wine cellar idea with storage racks

[wonderthor]

your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.

“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”

he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”

he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.

“you sure about that?”

you confidentially smirk back at him.

“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”

sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.

“how about we make a bet.”

“a bet? on what?”

“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”

“and what do i get when i win?”

sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

you roll your eyes at him.

“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”

he laughs at you again.

“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”

you take another sip of your drink and lean back.

“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”

“what do you want?”

his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.

“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”

he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.

“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”

time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.

“what do you m-mean by that?”

he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.

“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”

a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.

it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.

but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.

when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.

“guess i win, sweetheart.”